


More or Less

by nonnyspn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Chubby Dean, Chubby Sam, M/M, Weight Gain, weight loss
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 14:11:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11060652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonnyspn/pseuds/nonnyspn
Summary: Prompt:Sam and Dean retire from hunting and they both end up packing on the pounds.Sam loves Dean’s body but decides for whatever reason he’s going to get himself back into shape.Love to see Sam successfully shedding the poundage as Dean sits back happily stuffing himself with double the treats piling on even more weight as Sam works out in front of him.





	More or Less

Retirement was something that Sam and Dean had never seen in their future. A future at all was a foreign concept. They both grew up knowing the way that the life of a hunter ends and for them they figured that it would be going down in a blaze of glory. Only it didn’t happen. The apocalypse was prevented (again) and more importantly a balance had been found between good and evil, the dark and the light, and there was no need for hunters anymore. They were free. Well, as free as wanted men could be. In a sense they were still ghosts and not able to fully integrate into society. Still they were content. They had each other, they had a home in the bunker and the times they had tried to do the civilian job thing they found it lacking. They continued to travel every now and then, old habits truly did die hard, actually spent time with friends that didn’t center around defeating some all-powerful evil and more importantly just got to relax. It was far less boring than it seemed, especially since they had each other. There were a million horror flicks and pop culture that Dean had missed out on over the years that he now found himself diving into completely and Sam, giant nerd that he was, still found himself determined to work through and come up with a better cataloging system for all the lore they held in the bunker.

With a new leisurely lifestyle, it wasn’t that surprising that the pounds came piling on. The only truly shocking thing was that Sam was first. Daily early morning runs soon dropped down to five days a week, then three and then none at all. Perfectly sculpted abs became a torso lacking definition before ultimately rounding out in a soft layer of pudge.

“I like it,” Dean said before he pressed his mouth against Sam’s softening chest. And that was that.

With Dean it took longer. He was never a fan of the gym himself and his diet had always been questionable at best. It wasn’t until Sam fully let go of all his holdups that Dean’s own amazing metabolism started to crack. The rabbit food that Sam had seemingly loved was rapidly becoming a thing of the past and as Sam added more and more to his taste preferences Dean was happy to oblige in cooking morning, noon and night. Over time his recipes became more decadent and soon Dean was filling out as well. They weren’t hunters anymore and their bodies were evident of that. As far removed as they were from that lifestyle how their bodies varied from each other was also quite the difference. Dean had always been a drinker so it wasn’t that much of a surprise that almost all of his weight settled in a perfectly spherical belly that was firm even when completely empty. It was solid and unwavering and Dean found himself carrying himself differently. His back arched almost like he was pregnant and he had to wear his pants low beneath the curve of his gut. Even as they were sized up again and again several of shirts were missing buttons from where he had popped them with his gut. Anything that fit him in the chest and shoulders came nowhere close to fitting around his middle. With their days of posing as law enforcement far behind them there was little to no reason for Dean to don a suit so he wasn’t that bothered by the change. Shirts stayed open and even tees that were roomy on the top stretched out and clung to his center with a strip of belly often making an appearance after a meal (or a vigorous activity), an undeniable side effect of being so middle heavy.

For as firm and round as Dean was Sam’s body was plush and soft. Despite his peak physique being statuesque it took considerable effort on Sam’s part to build up muscle mass. He had been constantly fighting against a frame that didn’t want to be ripped so when his regime went out the window his muscle build-up followed. Sam was for lack of a better word curvy. His flesh was warm and welcoming and there was so much of it to grab. His belly was luscious and kissable and unlike Dean’s drooped downward coming to a perfect dent where his naval stretched. When they made love Sam’s body bounced and jiggled while Dean’s fingertips sunk into delectable love handles. His pants wore thin where his thighs rubbed together and no matter what shirt he wore the outline of his rounded former pecs was always visible.

Occasionally there was some good natured ribbing from one of their old hunting buddies.  “Really putting it on there Winchester, huh?” But everyone knew they had earned the right. They were content and everything was perfect until the day when it wasn’t.

Dean was sprawled out on the couch with a cheese slathered plate of nachos resting on his belly when Sam slumped down in the recliner. Dean could pretend not to notice the less than graceful way his brother’s body seemed to fall into the seat more than he sat but the patented Sammy bitch face was a little harder to completely shrug off.

“What’s wrong,” Dean asked with a mouth full of nachos.

“I’m fat,” Sam muttered.

“I prefer thick and juicy,” Dean responded, sucking cheese off of his fingers. Sam didn’t respond and Dean didn’t have to look over at his brother to know that he was still making that face. “Come on Sammy, I think it’s pretty safe to say we drifted over into fat about two years ago.”

 “None of my pants fit.”

 “So go up a size.”

 “I just went up a size a few months ago. I’ve outgrown everything _again_.”

 Sam’s tone was not one of minor annoyance but one of deep frustration with a dash of concern. It was enough for Dean to pull himself up into a sitting position, dusting some nacho crumbs off of his torso, and look over at his brother giving him undivided attention.

 “You probably just picked up an old pair, it happens, you’re wearing pants now,” Dean reasoned.

 The younger Winchester shifted uncomfortably in his chair and picked at the band of his sweatpants. He let out a slight grunt as he shoved his thumb into them. Even from where Dean could see there wasn’t much give. “I have sweats,” Sam responded. “That’s it.”

 “You don’t just wake up one day and you’re too big for all your clothes though. Maybe it was the laundry?” Even Dean knew he was grasping at straws with his own logic. Despite the fact that their life was already one of leisure, Dean had recently convinced his brother to have an extra lazy extended weekend. They spent most of their time in bed, not just fooling around but watching TV, pigging out and of course the ever popular napping. There hadn’t been much call for clothing and the little that had didn’t call for much more than lounging clothes.

 “They were getting kind of snug before that but if I laid down and held my breath I could get them on and then it was fine,” Sam explained. “Now I couldn’t even get the flaps close enough to button.”

 Dean frowned. Sam was a big guy, fuck, they were both big guys these days but Sam looked great and his brother had grown to enjoy his own skin, or so he thought.

 “You know I got on the scale and…”

 “We have a scale?”

 Sam shot Dean another look and that time okay maybe he did deserve it. This clearly wasn’t the time for joking.

 “I got on the scale and since… well everything? Dean I’ve gained over a hundred and thirty pounds.”

Dean actually scoffed at that. It clearly wasn’t the reaction that Sam had been looking for but Dean couldn’t help himself. “Come on Sammy,” he said. “So we’ve gotten a little big… we’ve _both_ gotten big,” he made sure to put extra emphasis on that part for Sam’s sake. “But there’s no way you’ve put on that much weight.”

 “I weigh three hundred and sixty-seven pounds Dean. That’s a lot. Like almost four hundred pounds a lot.”

 Dean didn’t know how to respond to that. It did sound like a lot, especially when he said it out loud. Hell it was almost double what Dean weighed in his prime. He pushed himself off of the couch, a move that took a little more effort than he cared to admit especially given the conversation, and walked over to Sam placing his hand gently on his brother’s belly.

 “I thought you were okay with this,” he said.

 “I am, I mean I was,” Sam stammered, pausing to take a breath. “I’m just… I guess I’m not as comfortable as I was? Like physically. Not emotionally or anything.” Sam looked down at where Dean’s hand rested on his belly noting the way that how even when Dean moved slightly his stomach would jiggle beneath him. “I’m pretty out of shape. I’ve been out of breath, sweatier than usual… what about you?”

 “What about me?” Dean asked.

 “I mean you’re like three hundred are you uncomfortable?”

 Dean snorted, “Dude I am not three hundred pounds.”

 Sam glared at him in response and the next thing Dean knew he was in the bathroom standing on a scale in front of Sam.

 “Two hundred ninety-eight,” the younger Winchester read from the display. “So you’ve gained almost one hundred and ten since we stopped hunting.”

 “Still not three hundred though,” Dean said defiantly.

 Sam couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes. “Anyway, I think I’m going on a diet.”

 Dean slowly stepped off of the scale. “Oh?”

 “I just want to feel a little better, that’s all,” Sam paused as he caught Dean glancing down at his own stomach. Sam stepped closer to his brother and slid his hand under Dean’s shirt. The bathroom was little muggy but Dean’s firm stomach was cool to the touch beneath his palm. “I still love this. All of this. I’m not asking you to change a thing.”

 “Alright.”

 “Dean I mean it. I’m just talking about me and it’s not even about how I look. I’m just tired of growing out of my clothes or getting winded bringing in the groceries. I think I might have forgotten what my toes look like.”

 “Well, they’re ugly.”

 Sam smiled at that and repositioned himself so he was behind Dean and draped his arms around his brother, gently following the curves of his body. “You’re hot Dean,” he reiterated. “You’ve always been hot. I’m serious. You’re perfect how you are, okay?”

 Dean closed his eyes unable to argue, not when Sam felt so good against him.

 “No diet for you,” Sam emphasized his words with a kiss. “Just me.”

 Dean swayed slightly with Sam’s movements. He truly did love the way they fit together these days. Who would have thought six hundred some pounds of pure Winchester would feel so good?

 “And it’s not like I’m planning on going back to how I was before. There’s no way I’m giving up your burgers,” Sam’s words came out with a small laugh and he kissed Dean’s neck. Dean laughed too.

 “So no abs?”

 “No abs,” Sam responded. “Still a belly, just a smaller one.”

Dean couldn’t argue with that at all. He loved Sam, he wanted Sam happy and it wasn’t like his brother was asking him to change or anything. “Mmm, okay,” he agreed sliding his hands over Sam’s. Maybe this diet thing wouldn’t be so bad after all. It’s not like he would be participating.


End file.
